


tranquil as a forest (on fire within)

by theinvisibledisaster



Series: 666 Fics [8]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Mulan (1998) Fusion, Bellamy as Li Shang, Clarke as Mulan, I make no promises, LET'S get down to BUSINESS! to deFEAT the GROUNDERS!, Murphy as Mushu, Slow Burn Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, it kinda makes sense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23666530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinvisibledisaster/pseuds/theinvisibledisaster
Summary: "How did a woman end up fighting Jaha’s war? I didn’t think he let girls in - or is he getting desperate?”In the panic, she hadn’t realised that her disguise had come loose in the fall into the bunker, fake nose on the floor and shirt ripped open to reveal the edges of the binder. “He’s not, he doesn’t, I…”“Lied,” the edges of his mouth twitched. “I figured. You pretended to be a dude just to join a war? Why?”“My dad’s sick. I couldn’t let him fight. And I don’t want to fight this war, but maybe I can help.”the mulan au that y'all asked for because i cannot help myself
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Series: 666 Fics [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1498343
Comments: 80
Kudos: 124





	tranquil as a forest (on fire within)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke's father is too sick to join the war against the grounders so she takes his place and things get intense fast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mamabearsdontthink and one of my favourite commenters, Alex, both requested the Mulan AU from my 666 fics list, and when I tell you I got carried away, are any of you surprised?? no?? didn't think so 
> 
> all the titles come from I'll Make A Man Out Of You, because of coourse they do, and also it's the best Disney song no I'm not taking criticism at this time, facts are facts
> 
> I hope you like it!!

Clarke hit the ground, the impact jarring her knees and sending debris flying. There was grass in her mouth.

“For God’s sake, Griffin, get in line!” Bellamy barked.

She pushed herself up on her knees. She was covered in mud, which was lucky, cause her binder was coming loose and she needed an excuse to duck away so she could fix it. When she decided to join the war effort, she hadn’t thought about how much dirt there was gonna be. There was no mud in space.

“Griffin, get up!”

She closed her eyes against Bellamy’s insistence, grounding herself. The others were staring at her, unsure if they should help, and Murphy was making a stupid remark in her ear, but she didn’t care.

She missed her best friend, and her dad, and she had no idea what she was doing. If she was honest with herself, she’d never really meant for it to get this far.

* * *

**Two Weeks Earlier**

When the Ark asked for male volunteers to fight the war against the grounders, she thought it was horribly sexist, and she said as much. But Jaha was insistent, and started sending small battalions down to the ground, and he didn’t back down even when his own son’s name came up in the draw. Wells was Clarke’s best friend and he was in every memory she had until suddenly he wasn’t there anymore. It was almost too much for her to handle, and it was only the promise she made to him before she left, to keep her head high, that kept her going without him by her side.

Then Jake’s name came up in the draw, and she snapped. Jake Griffin had been sick for years, ever since he walked into a radioactive room to fix the ship’s oxygen filter, and he was in no fit state to fight. Not to mention he was a pacifist.

So, she did what any normal person would do.

She cut off all her hair, put on a prosthetic nose, and hid her boobs under a binder and a heavy jacket.

Abby didn’t know; she was so busy in the medbay and helping Jaha that she’d barely been home, and Clarke had no idea what her mother would think when she found out but she didn’t care. Clarke had always been closer to her dad anyway. When she told him what she was doing, Jake tried to stop her, telling her there was no use in fighting but she told him she’d do anything to keep him from going and that there was nothing he could say to stop her. He gave in, promising not to tell Abby until she was gone, and helped create her a new ID so that she could take his place - as his son.

Her written application was accepted immediately, and she paid Raven to slip her a voice modulator on her way to the transport ship with seven other people, all of them too young for a war they knew nothing about. This was going to be her squad for as long as she was on the ground, and she wasn’t even sure how convincing she was.

“Hey man, I’m Jasper,” said the gangly guy to her left.

Okay, so enough to fool at least one of them. “Clark,” she said, barely refraining from starting at the deepness of her voice. That was gonna take some getting used to.

“Conscripted?”

“Volunteer,” she muttered.

“Really? Damn. Why?”

“Dad’s name came up. I stepped in.”

The guy on Jasper’s other side leaned around her. “That’s very brave of you. I’m Monty. We were drafted together, but if my name hadn’t been in there I’d like to think I’d be brave enough to do the same. It’s nice to meet you.”

She liked these guys. “You too, man. What do you think the ground is like?”

Monty opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, one of the other guys jerked his chin up. “Quieter than this.”

“Chill out, Blake, we’re not even on the ground yet, you don’t have to start disciplining the recruits when we’re barely out of the airlock,” the guy next to him elbowed him. He grinned over at Clarke. “Sorry. I’m Miller, I’m the second in command, Blake here is the squad leader. He’s already served on the ground more than once, so he’s not as excited about it as the rest of us. I went down with the last troop.”

“So why are you here with us?” One of the others asked.

Blake raised an eyebrow. “Because he was the one that lived.”

A dark silence fell over the ship as the reality of the situation sank in. Clarke knew what she was getting into when she joined because of her mother’s involvement in the control room and the med-centre, but the others clearly had no clue. A flicker of fear went through her that Wells might have been in that group, but he’d been down longer than that, and Jaha would know if he’d died. She took a shaky breath and smiled at the guy next to Miller. “Hey.”

He returned the gesture, albeit a little shakily. “Hi. I’m Riley. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Conscripted?”

“Yeah,” he swallowed nervously. “I never really wanted to go to ground. I like the stars.”

“Apparently you can see those from the ground,” Monty said hopefully, glancing at Miller to confirm, but he only lifted a shoulder noncommittally.

A shaggy-haired guy flashed a grin. “Sounds good to me.”

Clarke turned to him, interested. He was the only one who seemed enthusiastic about the assignment, and it was odd. She tilted her head at him. “You volunteer?”

He shrugged. “Kinda.”

“Kinda?”

“I pissed off the chancellor,” he admitted. “Apparently that gets you immediate conscription.”

Riley looked alarmed. “How’d you piss off Jaha?”

“I wanted to spacewalk and he caught me trying to sneak onto the deck, told me if I wanted to go outside so bad, he’d send me all the way. I was half-convinced he was gonna just chuck me out the airlock, but he signed me up instead.” He held out a hand to Clarke, “Finn.”

She shook it.

“Wow, that was _almost_ a cool story,” the guy next to him drawled. At Jasper’s snort of laughter he smiled cheerfully. “Kyle Wick. Nice to meet the people I’ll be dying beside. A volunteer, the wacky twins, Captain Broody, Right Hand Survivor, a frightened kid, and an _almost_ badass; what a band of merry men we are.”

“And we’ve found The Mouth of the group,” Blake sounded unimpressed. “Good for us. Now strap in, we’re approaching the atmosphere and things might get rocky.”

Rocky was an understatement - the ship spun out as it plummeted through the cloud layer and ended up finishing the journey by landing upside-down, hard. Clarke was nearly thrown headfirst into the ceiling as they landed, barely avoiding it by tucking her chin and twisting out of the way, absorbing most of the impact with one shoulder. She managed to suppress her yelp of pain, coughing through it, and lifted her head.

“Everyone okay?” She asked, but someone else’s voice blended with hers.

Blake was already on his feet, hand on Miller’s shoulder as he steadied the man, and when he realised she’d mirrored his words, he locked eyes with her. It wasn’t exactly malicious, but it definitely wasn’t what she’d call friendly. She was snapped out of it when Jasper raised a hand in the air.

“A-okay, Captain.”

“I’m fine too,” Monty said, accepting Wick’s offered hand of help as he untangled himself from his harness. “Finn, Riley?”

“Riley’s hurt,” Finn replied. “I think he got knocked unconscious in the fall.”

Clarke was on her feet in an instant, stumbling to the kid’s side. And he _was_ a kid; now that she was up close, he barely looked fifteen. She ran a hand over his head, ignoring the pain in her other arm as she used it to check his pulse. After a minute she breathed a sigh of relief. “As long as we can get him some medical attention, he’ll be okay.”

Blake crouched down next to her. “How do you know that?”

“I worked in the med bay,” she bluffed.

“You got a medical degree and they let you volunteer?” He asked, suspicious.

“No degree. I was just a hired hand for surgeries, but you pick stuff up.” It was kind of true - she used to help her mom sometimes. Blake still looked sceptical. Judging by his expression, she was gonna have to get better at lying than that. She looked back to Riley. “We should get him to basecamp.”

“You gonna carry him?” He asked, raising his eyebrow at her in disbelief and an edge of condescension.

“Not with a dislocated shoulder, I’m not,” she said, trying not to wince as she shifted against the wall so she could sit without jostling her arm.

His eyes widened, darting to her injured side for the first time, concern flickering over his face before the impassive expression returned. “Jackson can fix you up once we get to camp.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “No need.”

Without warning, she threw herself back into the wall, feeling the sickening pop as her shoulder dropped back into its socket. There were stars in her vision but she managed to hold onto consciousness as the pain ricocheted through her chest. Well, that sucked. She blinked a few times, glancing around. Everyone was frozen in a state of getting up, all of them staring at her with mouths ajar. Blake’s arm was outstretched, like he had instinctively reached out to stop her, and as she noticed it, it returned to his side.

He set his jaw. “That was stupid.”

“Don’t you mean badass?” Jasper said, grinning over at Clarke.

“No, I mean stupid,” he growled, getting back to his feet and aiming a kick at the door. It flew off its hinges and landed a few feet away in the underbrush. It was dark, but Clarke could just about make out the trees. “We’re only a few miles from the base, we should go before the grounders find us.”

“What do we do with Riley?” Finn asked.

“Carry him, Collins,” he retorted, like it was obvious. “There’s a stretcher in that container. Take turns carrying the kid, in pairs. Except for you, Griffin. You don’t do anything with that shoulder until Jackson looks at it.”

“It’s fine,” she tried.

“You rammed it against a wall. Forgive me if I don’t take your medical opinion as gospel,” he gestured towards the forest and Wick, Monty and Jasper filed out while Miller and Finn lifted Riley onto the stretcher. When Clarke hesitated, glancing at them, Blake made a disgruntled noise. “We’re losing time here, Griffin.”

She strode past him, barely refraining from angling her good elbow at his chest. Making an enemy of her squad leader on the first day was probably a bad idea.

* * *

Base camp was insane.

They arrived at the wall and immediately had guns shoved in their faces until Blake revealed himself and they waved them through.

Clarke followed Monty and Wick with Riley, chatting amiably with them as they walked. It was chaos; people buzzed back and forth like ants in a colony and there was the constant air of anticipation, like an attack could come at any time. It probably could. When they arrived at the medbay - little more than an oversized tent - a friendly looking doctor, presumably Jackson, jogged over to examine him.

“Well,” he hummed. “He’ll live, but he probably shouldn’t do any basic training with you guys for a few weeks. I’ll tell Jaha to assign him to the next battalion.”

“So what, we’ve been here an hour and we’re already down one man?” Wick asked.

“Consider yourself lucky, we’ve lost entire troops in a matter of minutes,” he said, deadly serious, and Monty looked a little pale. Jackson glanced at Clarke. “You the one with the shoulder?”

“It’s fine, I put it back into place, it works,” she tried to brush him off but he walked around the bed and stood in front of her, moving her arm around so he could examine her carefully.

“You did a good job, but it’s not something I recommend. Next time you need to pop a shoulder back in, ask one of your squadron to help.”

“I’m sure I will next time,” she said. “But today I don’t really know them, so I did it myself.”

He chuckled. “Fair enough. But you should probably learn to trust them pretty fast. For as long as you’re down here, they’re going to be the only thing you’ve got. A few weeks ago one of our own betrayed us for a grounder and everyone in his squadron attested he was a loner, never made an effort to get to know the group. Get to know each other, trust each other, not just for your own sake, but for theirs.”

“And on that dark note,” Miller appeared in the archway, “Blake wants us in the training room.”

* * *

The first three days of training were a nightmare. The effort of putting her all into every exercise while also maintaining her cover and not knocking her voice modulator out was gargantuan, and Clarke went to bed every night completely exhausted.

They were on cots in the barracks together and all of them changed in front of each other, but she disappeared into the bathrooms so she could make sure she was still fooling everyone. Luckily, none of them ever pressed the issue, and Monty even shot her kind glances whenever she emerged.

She was really beginning to like these people.

On the fourth day, Blake took them outside the boundary walls. He wanted them to get better at tracking silently over the land, at hiding in the underbrush, at knowing where attackers might be coming from. Jasper wasn’t great at the ‘silent’ part, but for the most part, they were all pretty good at it.

If she didn’t know any better, she might have assumed that Blake’s half-smile was an indication that he was pleasantly surprised at their skills.

So naturally, she ruined it entirely when, on the way back to camp as dusk was falling, she made the mistake of trying to talk to him. “Hey.”

He didn’t look at her. “What?”

“What’s your first name?”

His jaw twitched, eyes still surveilling the forest.

She sighed. “You know all of ours. We even got Miller to tell us his.”

“I’m not your _friend_ , Griffin,” he spoke through gritted teeth.

“Jackson said we should trust each other, have each other’s back. How can we do that if you won’t even tell us your name?”

“Because I’m in _charge_ , that’s why!” He rounded on her angrily, voice echoing slightly against the trees.

She took a hesitant step back. “That is never a good reason.”

He looked like he was about to argue, and then Miller called out and he turned on his heel and stalked over to his second in command. The irritation fell off his face immediately as he looked up, replaced with what looked like panic. She followed his eyeline and saw a wall of yellow fog approaching them rapidly.

Blake shoved Miller back and the two of them started running. “Everyone, move! Follow me!”

They stopped going for stealth and started sprinting after the two men; crashing through the woods on each other’s heels. Clarke was bringing up the rear, making sure Monty was ahead of her, mentally counting to make sure they were all there, and she saw a looming square up ahead, some kind of vehicle, and Blake and Miller were already clambering into it.

She stumbled, boot catching on something in the grass, and she couldn’t get it free. She tried to take a breath, stay calm, and she stopped in her tracks despite every cell in her body screaming at her to run, to keep pulling on her trapped leg until it came off. The laces seemed to be caught on some kind of metal hook and her fingers made quick work of undoing them, trying to remove her shoe.

Then she made the mistake of glancing behind her.

The fog was almost at her heels.

“Fuck,” she muttered, trying to pick up the pace. She knew it wasn’t any use, and that was confirmed when she saw Monty reach the car and turn around, calling her name. Blake looked frantic, but it wasn’t the kind that said he wanted to help her; it was the kind that said he knew she was a goner. She watched him take half a step in her direction before he shook his head and climbed in, closing the door behind him. She couldn’t blame him - it’s what she would have done; the safety for the many over the few.

She closed her eyes, waiting for the fog and whatever it did to overtake her, but before it could, something grabbed her leg and yanked, and then she was falling. She landed on hard ground, solid and cold like the Ark, and there was a loud bang.

Clarke glanced up. There was a man on a ladder above her, hand on the handle of the trapdoor he’d just swung shut, and he winked down at her. “You’re welcome.”

“What…?”

He jumped off, landing next to her as she got to her feet. “For the rescue. That fog is acid, it’ll eat your flesh right off your bones. I just saved your life.”

She glanced around - they were in a tiny room and there was a door on one wall. There seemed to be music playing, which couldn’t be right, because she hadn’t heard music since she left the Ark.

“Welcome to my home, mi casa es tu casa, or at least until the fog is gone. If you don’t like Ella Fitzgerald I’ve got other options,” the man was saying as he strode to the door and opened it. The music got louder and she followed him through. There was a speaker in the corner and a couch, and some monitors on the walls. She was in some kind of bunker. He flopped onto the sofa, leaving room for her. “Well? Sit down, you’re gonna be here for a few hours, you might as well relax.”

“What the hell is this place?”

He rolled his eyes. “Mine. Sit down, you’re making me nervous.”

She frowned, but she did as she asked, settling down next to him and catching her breath as the music washed over her. “Who are you? Grounder?”

He snorted. “I look like a grounder to you?” He gestured at the emblem on his jacket, one she recognised.

“You’re an Ark soldier?”

“Was,” he corrected, putting his feet up on the table. “I defected.”

Her heart fell into her shoes. She remembered the story Jackson had told her. “Defected?”

“Don’t freak out, I’m not gonna kill you or anything. If I was gonna do that I’d have left you up there,” he shrugged. “I was on the ground for weeks fighting against the grounders, and I got injured a while ago during a battle, fell unconscious. When I woke up, a grounder was taking care of me. Hard to hate her when she saved my life. We started hooking up, and I kept sneaking out of camp to see her, but my squad leader saw me one night, tried to have me killed. So I left. I found this place about a month ago. It wasn’t like I was friends with anyone on the Ark anyway, and she was… she’s nice. She checks up on me, brings me food.”

Clarke relaxed slightly, side-eyeing him. The man had fallen in love with the enemy. Poor guy. “So you’re a house husband.”

He made a face. “It’s better than fighting a war I don’t give a shit about.”

“Hey, I’m not disagreeing,” she said, putting her own feet up next to his.

He glanced across at her. “How about you? How did a woman end up fighting Jaha’s war? I didn’t think he let girls in - or is he getting desperate?”

 _Fuck_.

In the panic, she hadn’t realised that her disguise had come loose in the fall into the bunker, fake nose on the floor and shirt ripped open to reveal the edges of the binder. “He’s not, he doesn’t, I…”

“Lied,” the edges of his mouth twitched. “I figured. You pretended to be a dude just to join a war? Why?”

“My dad’s sick. I couldn’t let him fight. And I don’t want to fight this war, but maybe I can help. Maybe we can find peace someday. If we can do that, maybe all this is worth it.”

“Fair enough.” He held a hand out in front of her. “John Murphy.”

She shook it. “Clarke Griffin.”

“Griffin?” He tilted his head at her. “That’s unlucky. You’re pretty into peace for someone who’s mother is Abby Griffin-” at the widening of her eyes, he poked her leg with his toe “-don’t panic, the only reason I know who you are is because she had my dad floated. Most people don’t even know she has a daughter, let alone who you are. How does your mom feel about you sneaking down here?”

“She doesn’t know.”

“Does anyone?”

“Just my dad. I had to tell him so he could help forge my credentials,” she admitted.

Murphy laughed, clapping her on the shoulder. “You’ve got stones, Griffin, I’ll give you that. I’m sure your dad is proud of you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out an apple, slicing off a piece with a pocket knife and handing it to her.

She accepted it tentatively, and before long, they had finished the fruit together. He pulled out a chequered board and put it between them, shifting so he was sitting cross-legged on the couch in front of her, and asked if she knew how to play chess. She told him she was gonna kick his ass. He beat her by a mile. The second round, she was more invested, more focused, and managed to even the playing field with a win, and by the time they were on their third game, both of them had practically forgotten what led to Clarke being there. He told her about the grounder girl - Emori, her name was - and she told him about Jake and Wells, and about the guys in her squad. In the space of a few hours, they were almost friends. Murphy slid his knight forward, taking her rook. She just kept moving her pawn forward. He rolled his eyes and moved his bishop across the board.

* * *

“You really think you can make a difference?” He asked; the first question without a tinge of amusement to it.

She frowned. “I think I can try.”

“So what’s your plan?”

“Plan?”

“Well, I mean, your disguise fell off because I pulled you too hard - what happens if it comes off in the middle of a fight? How are you gonna keep your identity a secret?”

“Oh, that. I’ll climb that mountain when I get to it, I guess,” she hummed, thinking over her next move.

He hesitated. “Or… you could climb it now.”

“What does that mean?” She moved her queen.

“I’m so gonna regret this,” he muttered to himself. “I might be able to help you.”

“Help me? How?” She looked up at him and he sighed and jerked his chin towards the monitors.

“I’ve had a lot of time to myself down here. I’ve investigated every corner of this place, and I’ve been studying all of this tech. It’s pretty easy to use once you get the hang of it. There’s this, uh, chip.” He got to his feet and rummaged through a pile of stuff in the corner. He came away with a little red square. “This thing, it’s a prototype for a disguise filter. It’s sort of like a hologram, makes people think you look different than you do. I’ve been trying it out to see if I could pass for a grounder so I can leave this place with Emori, but… I feel like you need it more than I do.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not a soldier,” he said slowly. “But I’d wager most of these men aren’t either. They were dragged into a war they don’t understand and I don’t think they want to be here. And the grounders… they’re outgunned. They’re outmanned. And Jaha’s troops are trained to show no mercy. They’re not just out here killing other soldiers - they massacre whole villages, including the children. And the grounder commander won’t entertain the idea of peace talks. It’s endless, and I hate living in a box. You’re the first soldier I’ve met who actually seems to understand that war isn’t just about shooting at other people. I’m not saying I think you’ll actually succeed, but I may as well give you your best shot, right?”

Clarke blinked. “You really love this girl, huh?”

Murphy threw the chip to her instead of answering.

She rolled it over in her fingers. “So how does this work?”

“You put it in your neck and it throws up a filter so people can’t see the real you. We edit the way you look on one of these,” he smacked a computer, “and as long as you’re careful, no-one will ever know the truth.”

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch-”

“What’s the _catch_ , Murphy?”

“It also comes with this little… side effect.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“It’s called A.L.I.E. technology, and don’t ask me what that stands for because I have no idea. All I know is that I can use it to see outside. Like, through your head, kinda. So wherever you go, I’ll be able to see what’s going on, and you’ll be able to see me.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Like a hologram or some shit. I don’t know, it doesn’t make a lot of sense to me either, but it works - Emori did it once, a while ago, but she doesn’t trust the tech the way we do, and I… listen, it was nice to get out of this place for once. I’m stuck here basically until this war is over, so don’t think I’m doing this out of the kindness of my heart or anything.” He shifted his weight slightly, self-conscious. “Whaddya say?”

Clarke looked between his face and the tiny chip in her hand.

She was so going to regret this.

* * *

The fog passed sometime in the early hours of the morning. The red sensor on the trapdoor turned green and Murphy showed her out. She squinted against the rays of sunlight peeking through the trees and looked down into the bunker, grateful.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t do that, I’m allergic to sentimentality,” he said, and then closed the door in her face.

“Dick,” she muttered.

“That’s more like it,” he said, and she looked up. In front of her, standing in the forest, was Murphy. Or at least, some approximation of Murphy. He glanced around. “I’ve missed this.”

“This is trippy.”

“Like you’ve ever tripped in your life, Princess,” he snarked, trying and failing to kick the dirt. “Nothing about you screams ‘I like to party’.”

She opened her mouth to retort that she _had_ partied, thank you very much, and then there was a loud creaking noise and her head whipped around. The door of the car opened slowly and Jasper’s head peeked out, looking around. When he spotted her, he gasped, and within seconds he was sprinting towards her like a puppy through the grass.

He barrelled her over. “Clark! We thought you died!”

She patted his back awkwardly. “Might still die if you keep cutting off my air like that buddy.”

“Do you think the chip would still work if you were naked?” Murphy wondered aloud. “Because obviously I’d be able to see you. But would the others see clothes or not? Would you have man nipples?”

Clarke bit back the urge to tell him to shut up, remembering at the last second that no-one else knew he was there. That was going to get annoying, she just knew it. Monty rushed over to pull Jasper off her so she could get up, and as she did she realised that the whole squad was standing there, staring at her.

She smiled at them weakly. “Hi.”

“How the fuck-” Wick punched her in the arm, “-are you still alive?!”

“Found a cave over there,” she gestured to the place Murphy had told her about when they had gone over her cover story. “I had to pull some wood around me, but I managed to keep myself safe from most of it.”

“Jesus,” Miller shook his head. “Quick thinking.”

“Seriously,” Finn agreed, impressed.

In fact the only person who didn’t seem enamoured by her supposed quick-thinking was Blake. He was standing behind the others, subdued, arms crossed, and he didn’t say a word the entire time the others prodded her with questions. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Glad you’re not dead, Griffin, but we need to get back to base camp, so if you could all get in line and start moving…”

The others begrudgingly started walking in the direction he pointed, muttering to each other.

“What’s wrong with him?” Murphy asked, glaring at Blake.

“Down boy, he’s just like that,” she said quietly.

“Charming,” he said sarcastically.

As Clarke fell into step in the formation they were taught, bringing up the rear, she felt a presence at her side. For some reason, she didn’t have to turn her head to know who it was, but she did anyway. He wasn’t looking back at her when he spoke, “Bellamy.”

“What?”

“You were right,” he still wasn’t looking at her. “No-one should be expected to trust someone else just because they outrank you. I never bought into that shit before I came down here. I guess it’s just easier to deal with this place when you have some level of control over the things around you. But I’m not trying to control you, any of you. If I want you to trust me, I’m gonna earn it, just like you earn mine.”

She shot him a glance. “My death really affected you.”

“Eight hours in a metal box while Jasper cries can do a lot to a person,” he deadpanned.

“Wow. Did you just make a joke, Blake?” She laughed, bumping her shoulder against his as they walked.

“Are you flirting with him on purpose or do you think this is just how guys act?” Murphy asked from behind her. She ignored him.

Bellamy ducked his head. “Just… try not to die again, okay? I’ve lost too many men to this bullshit and I’m not gonna lose another one.”

“Deal,” she promised. “And please just call me Clark. I really couldn’t give a shit about Jaha’s regulations and that last name shit. I don’t care for most of Jaha’s rules.”

Something dark crossed over Bellamy’s face and his eyes met hers, just for a second. “That makes two of us.” And then he moved away to her left, back in formation, and Clarke was left wondering why he was so angry at the chancellor.

“Alright,” Murphy said, sounding annoyed. “Maybe he’s not that bad. But I still don’t like him.”

“Well, get used to him, because at the end of this week we’re going on our first mission as a squad, and these six guys are the only people you’re gonna have contact with outside of your box.”

He groaned. “Why couldn’t a beach tourist have tripped over my door?”

* * *

The rest of the week passed with very little incident. They finished their training and were signed off under Bellamy’s careful watch, and by Friday they were on their first mission.

Which is how she ended up, over a week later, on her knees in the dirt. They’d been walking for hours, sneaking through the forest with no idea if they were going in the right direction except for Bellamy’s fingers pointing forward. It was gruelling work, and all of them were over it, starting to snipe at each other and losing the sense of humour they’d all tried to hold onto since arriving on the ground. It was late in the day and she’d stumbled with the weight of her pack, exhausted from the week of walking, and her legs had just given in.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, not so much fixing the mud as smearing it across her face.

“That’s hot, Clark,” Murphy deadpanned.

“Quiet, you,” she shot him a look.

Miller choked on a laugh, squinting at the empty air next to her. “You talking to yourself there, Clark?”

“Nah, I’m talking to your boyfriend,” she coughed.

“Dick,” he grinned, but he held out an arm to help her up anyway. “I could have a boyfriend you know.”

“I’m sure you could,” she clapped him on the shoulder. “Maybe we’ll find you a cute grounder to date.”

“You two, knock it off!” Bellamy snapped.

Miller leaned in close as they stepped back in line, “Wanna help me remove the giant stick from Blake’s ass?”

“Can’t. It’s way too far up there,” she said seriously, earning a low-five from Jasper.

Bellamy had been his usual grumpy self the entire time they’d been outside the camp walls. There was almost no sign of the man who’d joked with her after the acid fog, and in fact he seemed to be determined to hate all of them, snapping at the slightest of issues. They were on their way towards a Mountain to do recon, taking their time, recording everything as they went so they knew if anything changed on their way back. It was slow, gruelling work, but Clarke preferred it to shooting at strangers over a battle she didn’t understand. She had a feeling the others felt the same way.

She’d gotten close with all of them - Jasper and Monty were inherently kind and cheerful, always trying to be as optimistic as they could; Wick was funny and highly intelligent and seemed to hate the idea of war as much as she did; Finn was an outspoken pacifist but in a slightly more annoying way; and Miller ended up becoming one of her closest friends in the group. Something about his dry sense of humour and the way he wasn’t scared of Bellamy just made him the easiest to walk with. And her disguise hadn’t slipped - the tech was holding strong.

Murphy had been making a running commentary on things for the entire week, and while there were periods that Clarke wished she could strangle him, she quite liked the break in the monotony. Even if she couldn’t always answer.

“You think he knows what a smile is?” he asked, jerking his chin at Bellamy as he walked. “Or do you think when he sees one he assumes that people are sick? Do you think his face could even do it if he tried, or would it just look angry?”

“Maybe ALIE stands for Asshole Likes Irritating Everyone,” she retorted.

“Ah, but it isn’t everyone, it’s just you.”

“Yay for me,” she groaned, hiking the bag up slightly so the straps dug into her shoulders less. “You know that if you _were_ here, you’d be annoying everyone though.”

“Maybe ALIE stands for Alienating Loser Is Envious.”

“Of what, exactly?”

“I’m still working on that part,” he grinned over at her and she couldn’t help but return the expression. He was pretty great to have around, although she’d obviously never tell him that. “Anyway, back to my original topic-”

“There was an original topic? When?”

“-how long do you think Bellamy has liked you?”

She almost tripped over again. “He doesn’t.”

Murphy shot her a look.

“He _doesn’t_ ,” she insisted. “He hates me.”

“Speaking as someone who is terrible at feelings; that man _likes_ you. He likes you and he’s trying not to because he’s in charge and he doesn’t want to show it.”

“Like you’re an authority on-”

“Griffin!” Bellamy snapped. “What are you doing?”

“Uh. Talking to myself,” she winced.

“Well do you wanna keep it down - we’re in enemy territory,” he ordered, and Miller rolled his eyes and made a rude gesture behind his back that made Clarke snort in an effort not to laugh. Bellamy’s head whipped around. “Got something to say, Clark?”

She smirked. “Nope.”

“Sure about that?” He stopped in his tracks, letting the others pass until he was in step with her, walking abnormally close. “You can carry on a conversation on your own, but you can’t talk to me?”

“I’m good at talking to people I actually _like,”_ she teased, watching the way his lips pressed together, trying not to smile.

“You don’t like me, Griffin?”

“Well you don’t seem to like anyone,” she pointed out.

He raised an eyebrow, impassive. “I like Miller.”

“Miller doesn’t count; everybody likes Miller.”

“I don’t!” Wick snarked, winking over at Nate, who flipped the bird at him.

“Shut up, Kyle,” Bellamy and Clarke said in unison, sharing a look before they both dropped their gaze to the ground as they walked.

Bellamy pushed a branch aside so she didn’t have to duck under it, and she held it while he followed. The silence began to overwhelm her and she glanced in his direction. She knew she shouldn’t ask; knew that it might disrupt the tentative peace they’d built up over the last week, but she just couldn’t help herself. “Why don’t you like Jaha?”

His jaw twitched. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Hey, I hate him too,” she held up her arms in surrender. “He sent my best friend down here to die, he drew my dad’s name - but you’ve been on the ground longer than any of us. You can’t tell me you respect him, but I want to know why you hate him.”

Bellamy glanced ahead of them, watching the backs of their friends, and he slowed slightly, letting them get further away before he spoke. He exhaled sharply. “I have a sister.”

“What, but-”

“I know,” he swallowed. “I was sent down in the first group, conscripted, and Octavia, she… she was gonna be alone and in hiding on the Ark. So she stowed away. And when we got down to the ground, I realised she was here and I tried to hide her again, but she was sick of hiding. So she ran. She ran into the woods and I haven’t seen her since.”

“And you blame Jaha for letting it happen,” Clarke realised.

“If he didn’t have that stupid one child policy, Octavia would never have had to hide. She would still be here. So would my mother. Not to mention the hundreds of men who’ve died down here because of a war he started,” he kicked at the dirt angrily. “You’re damn right I blame Jaha.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

“Whatever happens to me, I just want to find my sister. I have to know that she’s safe.”

“That’s why you keep volunteering to lead missions,” Clarke nodded, unconsciously stepping closer to him as she walked. “I understand. Part of why I’m down here is to find my best friend. I’ve known him my whole life, he’s like a brother to me, and since he came down here I have no idea where he is or if he’s even alive.”

Bellamy made a discontented noise in the back of his throat. “It’s bullshit.”

“We’ll find them,” she said, clasping his shoulder. “We just have to work together. You’ve done a good job pulling this ragtag group of misfits together, Blake.”

“I’m not too hard on you?” he asked, a glint in his eye as he looked across at her, and she felt her heart flutter a little. Damn it Murphy for putting the idea in her head in the first place.

“Sure you are,” she grinned. “But I can handle it.”

He looked like he was going to either laugh or say something, but before he could, Miller threw up his fist in the signal to stop, and Bellamy’s arm came out in front of her, halting her in her tracks. He held a finger to his lips - unnecessarily drawing her attention to them, which was more than a little distracting - and crept forward, ducking through the forest, until he reached Miller way up ahead.

A full minute of tense silence dragged out, weighted down with the humidity of the air, until Miller’s fist dropped and he gestured for everyone to move forward.

Once the whole squad was in-line, they moved towards the edge of a cave where someone was standing to attention, a stern edge to his brow.

“Blake,” he barked.

“Commander Pike,” Bellamy returned the tone, jerking his chin in recognition as he led them into the cave.

Pike took another look at the perimeter and followed them inside, bringing up the rear. They walked until they reached the belly of the cave with lamps planted around the edges, and Pike stepped through them until he was standing before them. “This is it?”

“It’s a recon team, not a battle squadron,” Bellamy said.

“Don’t take a tone with me, Blake,” he crossed his arms.

“No tone, Sir,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “What’s the mission?”

Pike clipped his heels before he started pacing back and forth in front of them. It almost made Clarke laugh and she wasn’t the only one - Jasper coughed loudly behind his hand, and Miller was looking anywhere but at the commander.

“Your mission is to canvas the area past this point; we want detailed breakdowns of every village, hut, or hole in the ground you might come across - weaknesses, strengths, anything that might give us an advantage - and report back to me.” Pike ordered. “This cave is now your base camp, so if you don’t like spiders you better get used to it. You will go out in groups of two and keep in constant radio contact with your team back here. We are in the middle of the combat zone, so if you do come in contact with a grounder, you shoot first and ask questions later, is that understood?”

“Yes Sir,” the team parroted back to him, but Clarke felt uneasy.

She met Murphy’s eyes across the room; there was a look of anger on his face that had only appeared once Pike had shown up, and she was willing to be that he was the squad leader Murphy had run away from. Clarke decided in that moment that she didn’t trust Commander Pike.

As he kept listing off orders and she looked around at her squad - so young, so inexperienced, forced into a war they had nothing to do with - an ominous feeling crept up her spine.

Something about this didn’t sit right with her.

“Jordan, Griffin,” Pike barked, and her head jerked around. His eyes flashed dangerously and she quickly got to her feet next to Jasper, who looked equally unsure. “You two are up. The first village is a mile east. You keep low, cover each other, and report back by this evening.”

They saluted, and Pike tossed a bag of guns in front of them. It spilled out at their feet. Clarke felt sick.

Pike pulled Bellamy aside to speak to him privately before he returned to his own squadron, and Clarke and Jasper picked up a gun each to hook onto their holsters. Unlike the pistols they were already equipped with, these were automatic weapons. They were killing machines.

Things had just gotten very real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what do you think so far?????? i'm SO excited for you all to read this fic, it's been sitting with me for over and year and I love it so much


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